


A Game of Chess

by fireandphoenix



Series: A Game Of Chess [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU, Robin (Comics)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Kidnapping, Sleep Deprived Tim, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim is a certifiable genius, Tim is an insecure child, Tim meets Ra's, Tim needs a hug, Tim needs more sleep, everybody needs to protect him, tim gets kidnapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-22 13:37:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17663666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireandphoenix/pseuds/fireandphoenix
Summary: Tim gets kidnapped by Ra's Al Ghul who seems to want to test the newest Robin. However he doesn't seem inclined to let him go. All Tim wants to do is get home to protect his Batman.“Stop struggling boy,” the voice was cold, too cold to be human. Maybe it was a robot. A robot that was bent on conquering the world.Maybe the robot saw him as a threat. Tim almost giggled at that. Dumb robot. Robin was a threat, but Tim wasn’t wearing his uniform. He was just Timothy Drake, and Timothy Drake wasn’t a threat. But Batman still needed a Robin.





	1. An Old Friend of Batman

“Has it only been one month since I took up the mantle?” Tim asked himself as he sat staring at his old pictures of Jason, the real Robin, flying through Gotham. It had only been a month and he had already been benched due to a leg injury, he thought bitterly.

Tim let out a long sigh. How was he ever going to be good enough to be Robin? He clenched his fists tightly. Who was he kidding? He would never be Robin material. Never had been in the first place. He wasn’t strong like Jason or flexible like Dick. He had no special abilities. No special skills. How was he ever going to survive this job? 

Then his eyes fell across a picture of Batman, and he remembered why he ever dared take up the mantle in the first place. Batman needed a Robin, and right now there was only Tim for the job, so it was up to him. He had to survive, for Batman’s sake. 

“Need to train some,” he groaned, dragging his semi-functioning body out of bed. By now the injury had really almost completely healed, so the limp was almost imperceptible.He slipped down to the Cave, careful to avoid Alfred, just in case the old butler forced Tim to stay in bed to let his body “heal”. Luckily for Tim, he escaped his room without meeting Alfred.

The cave still unnerved him slightly. He had never been a fan of the dark and the feeling of being constantly watched by hundreds of tiny beady eyes was enough to make anyone nervous. But the training mat was well lit as always, which Tim was eternally grateful for. 

After a few bouts, Tim could feel an ache in his leg that signaled him to rest, but as Robin, he needed to learn to push through the pain. “Come on Timothy,” he muttered to himself. “Jason could do better than this.” A Robin should never be stopped by pain, so he continued to fight until his limbs felt like lead, and the pain in his leg seared through him. He sagged to the floor, which at this point seemed like his greatest friend. 

“Okay, maybe a few minutes rest will do me some good,” he murmured to himself, unable to move from where he had collapsed. The world was mildly spinning, and Tim admitted that maybe he should have stopped sooner, but Jason wouldn’t have stopped that soon. Tim would continue after a few minutes of rest. After all he had a lot to make up for.

“I think you need more than a few minutes rest,” a voice said from the shadows.

It took Tim’s exhausted brain a moment to register the sound, but when it clicked that the voice was neither inside his head or Batman, Tim’s heart stopped cold. Surely it was merely another hallucination. It had to be because how could anyone know about the Cave? Then two figures emerged from where they had been hiding. “It is just another hallucination,” Tim muttered to himself as he tried to scramble back from the hallucination, but the hands that reached down and gripped the front of his shirt sure felt real.

“Believe me boy,” the one who was not holding him said with an amused note. “I am no hallucination.” With that the person gripping Tim tossed him over his shoulder. 

Tim was still too weak to protest. He could barely gather up enough energy to call out in a weak protest. “Please boy, save your strength. You are in no condition to fight me.” But Tim refused to listen, and instead continued to call out even though he could hardly hear his own voice. “I will admit you have courage, but your feeble attempts are becoming a nuisance. Ubu, knock him out.” Tim’s leg seared as he was thrown down onto the rock floor. Then something was stabbed into his neck. His mind informed him a minute too late that it was a needle. Probably filled with some sedative. His assailant then held Tim down until he could feel his arms turning into noodles and his mind feeling like it had suddenly been transformed into a swamp.

“Stop struggling boy,” the voice was cold, too cold to be human. Maybe it was a robot. A robot that was bent on conquering the world. Maybe the robot saw him as a threat. Tim almost giggled at that. Dumb robot. Robin was a threat, but Tim wasn’t wearing his uniform. He was just Timothy Drake, and Timothy Drake wasn’t a threat. But Batman still needed a Robin.

“Boy, stop struggling,” the robot’s voice came back. “You can hardly swat a fly in the state you forced yourself into, let alone fight me.” Tim didn’t stop though. Batman still needed a Robin, and right now Tim was the only one available, so he needed to get out so he could protect Batman. 

However, the world was becoming a bit foggy like someone had filled the entire Batcave with water. That almost made Tim giggle again. A Bat- size swimming pool. That would be something Nightwing would like.

Nightwing would be able to get out of this mess. That thought forced Tim to redouble his efforts to try to escape. He managed to cut the assailant’s hand on a rock he somehow grabbed. From somewhere in the Bat-pool, he heard a cry, and the hands that gripped him momentarily released pressure long enough to allow Tim to knock him away and make an escape, but the drug was already in his system. He didn’t get far before the world was spinning so much he couldn’t tell if he was standing upright or not. Apparently he wasn’t because there was rock pressed against his face, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t a wall. He really should stand up again. He needed to get away. He needed to be Robin. For Batman’s sake. Tim attempted to crawl away, but his arms felt like they were jello and refused to obey his commands. All he could do was lay limply on the floor, unable to see anything other than a whole bunch of rock. 

They sound of foot falls echoed closer until whoever it was, was standing directly over him. “You can’t do this,” Tim murmured, trying to push away the hands that gripped him and tossed him over their shoulder, but it was all in vain as his arms refused to do more than flop around. 

“Stupid boy,” was the last thing he heard before his word swirled into darkness.


	2. Break Out?

The first thing he felt upon waking was his head feeling like it had been split in two, but then if the pain wasn't already bad enough, the memories rushed upon him, causing his heart to skip at least two beats, but with a force of will that he didn’t know that he possessed Tim resisted his first instinct to start moaning, instead he lay perfectly still, trying to get a clue of where he was. He felt his hands bound behind his back and a piece of cloth tied firmly around his eyes.

“You can stop pretending, now,” the voice said. It came from in front of Tim, nearly giving him another heart attack. “I know that you are awake.”

Tim sat straight up. “How could you know?” Tim squeaked, equally in awe and terrified all at once. He was positive that his breathing had not changed, and he had laid perfectly still. Was this guy human? Maybe he was like Superman, except more evil and  _way_ more creepy.

But the voice just laughed. “Did you truly believe that you could fool me, boy?”

The answer was yes, he had been trained by Batman after all, but his fear kept him silent. Instead he responded in a voice that may have been a pitch or two higher than normal, “You don’t know who you are up against. Batman is the best detective in the world, and he will find me.” He knew Batman would come for him. Batman always came for him, and this assailant was no match for Batman.

That conviction gave him courage, which was quickly undermined when the voice laughed again. It was not the kind of jolly laugh that Santa might have, instead it was a mixture of the Wicked Witch of the West and a cat coughing up a hairball. Simply put: it was not a comforting sound. “You amuse me, but now, stop talking. It is becoming a nuisance.”

Tim could tell by the steel edge in the last words that disobeying this order would be a mistake, so he did what he was told.

The silence left him nothing to think about but his predicament. He was tied up like some damsel in distress. Helpless. Whoever these people were, they couldn’t mean any good. He was going to die like this, and there was nothing he could do about it. His breath come in short burst as he tried to get himself together. All of this was his fault. He should have defended himself better. Jason would have. Now Batman would lose another Robin.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he chided himself. He had been so stupid, and now Batman would pay the price. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he forced them back. Who knew what would happen to Batman now. He would go and get himself killed once he found out about how another Robin had died. Tim had to get out of this somehow. _Robin_ had to get out of this somehow.

He took several deep breaths. Trying to stuff his fears down to a place where they couldn’t control him. The first step he should take was removing the bonds that held him. The bonds were made of a thin rope. Thin rope was an unusual decision. The more incompetent kidnapper, might have used a thick rope, but the problem with that is it is hard to tie a tight a proper knot. This type of thin rope was specifically designed for tying people.

As this dawned on him, Tim felt the fear start to resurface, but he quickly quelled it. These people were professionals. Professionals who knew that Bruce Wayne and Batman were the same. Professionals who knew Batman’s habits. Professionals who knew how to sneak into the secret hideout of one of the most security obsessed people in the world. But surely Batman was aware of them and was already tracking him. Because Batman was Batman, and he was on top of everything. But Robin had to help him. It was up to Robin right now.

Tim tried to feel around to see if there was anything sharp enough to cut his bonds, but everything had been removed. He was helpless.

Since he couldn’t free himself maybe he could pick up a hint to show him where he was. Tim sat perfectly still, trying to gather anything that might be useful, but everything was all in vain. All he could gather was that he was some type of plane. With nothing left to occupy him, his mind started to wander to home.

Bruce must be going mad with worry over his missing Robin. Tim feared what he might do when he realized what had happened. Last time he lost a Robin, the whole city paid for it. Hopefully, maybe Alfred could help calm him down before he did something he would regret.

Hundreds of images flooded through Tim’s mind. Batman flying though Gotham, searching for his Robin. Beating up anyone who would get in his way. Consumed with fury. And it would all be his fault. When the fear, anger, and guilt were about to ensnare him, the voice interrupted. “Since you are being such a good boy, I think you can remove your blindfold now.”

Tim noticed that it was not ‘I’ will remove your blindfold, but ‘you’ can remove your blindfold. Tim hesitantly scrapped his head against the wall, loosening the blindfold, then flicking it to the side with a sharp shake of the head.

When he got it off and his eyes had adjusted, the first thing he noticed was a man, whom he guessed the voice belonged to, sitting across from him. He was old and dressed in green. And he was staring at Tim in a way that made it seem like he could see into his mind, causing a worm of fear to escape. “Very good, boy,” the man said approvingly. “A very simple solution,” which gave Tim the distinct feeling that the blindfold had only been a test. “We should be landing soon,” the man continued. “But until then I would like to hear about you.”

“Don’t you already know about me?” Tim asked, puzzling about where this was going.

“That is true. I guess it is unfair that I know so much about you, but you don’t know anything about me. I am Ra’s Al Ghul,” he paused, but seemed faintly disappointed when Tim showed no sign of recognition. “I am the Demon Head; the leader of the League of Assassins. And you are the famed Timothy Drake. Son of Jack and Janet Drake. And Batman’s newest Robin. I have simply been _dying_ to meet you.”

Tim felt a knot of fear in his stomach, but refused to let it conquer him. All of this must be another kind of test. “That is true,” he said trying to act calm. “How have you come to know so much about me?”

“I run the League of Assassins,” Ra’s Al Ghul said as if that explained everything. It did not in fact, explain everything. “I also know that you had a nasty run in with Killer Croc the other day. How is your leg by the way?” The small knot was growing bigger by the moment, but Tim refused to give in to it.

“It has healed nicely,” Tim said trying to hold his voice steady, but internally he was having a heart attack. What didn’t this man know about him?

“I am glad to hear it. I would hate to see you benched for much longer. After all, you have always loved to be active” At this point he purposely let a small photograph slip from his pocket.

The picture sent the torrents of fear surging back up. Laying on the floor between them was a photo of Tim. On a roof. Chasing Robin. When Tim was ten.

Tim could feel himself pale as he looked at it, but a Robin would never be caught off guard by something like this, so with every ounce of willpower, he shoved the fear back. He looked at Ra’s Al Ghul to see his reaction, but he seemed disinterested in Tim now. However Tim suspected that it was merely a farce and he was actually intently studying Tim’s reaction.

“It is such a pity that _this_ Robin,” he gestured to the photo, “was not good enough.” The way Ra’s Al Ghul said that, as if saying Jason was merely a child playing dress up, caused Tim’s blood to boil.

“Jason was an excellent Robin,” Tim seethed, forgetting for a moment his precarious situation. “The best in fact, and I will not stand for anyone treating him like yesterday’s trash!” Immediately Tim regretted his mistake ducking his head, but instead of being angry at Tim’s outburst, which Tim expected, Ra’s Al Ghul seemed oddly pleased by it.

“Interesting,” he mused with a creepy grin. “Anyway, we are almost at our destination, so no more talking.” Tim snapped his jaw closed and obeyed the command. He did not want to make another mistake.

Within half an hour, he could feel the plane start its dissension. “Would you tell me where we are?” He dared to ask. He was wondering if there was some way he could escape. If they were still in America, he could easily get back to Gotham, if he could escape. The only problem would be figuring a way to escape from a man who ruled a league of assassins and seemed to know everything about his life.

Instead of answering the question, Ra’s Al Ghul gave a vague reply, “You will see soon enough.” Ra’s Al Ghul’s mind seemed to be somewhere else, but when the plane touched down, he stood up and looked at Tim. “Don’t try to escape,” he said as if reading Tim’s mind. “You will not get far, and I would be forced to punish such behavior.” This was a cold note in his voice that sent shivers down Tim’s spine. He had no doubt that this man would carry out his word. When the guard accompanying them, dragged Tim to his feet and pushed him out the door, Tim tried to keep his gate steady and hide the limp. There was no way he was going to show any weakness or fear in front of these people.

As he stepped out of the plane, a gust of frozen air meet him. He glanced around at where he was, and was surprised to see snow covering everything. So it appeared they were in the mountains. Great, just great. They must be tall because it was the middle of summer, and the snow was still impossibly high. That did not bode well for him.

Tim had been awake for at least three hours on the flight, and they were not climbing when he woke up, so he guessed they were already far away from Gotham by time he had woken up. The drug would have probably knocked him out for at least an hour, so that would be at least four hours, probably more. There were no mountains that distance from Gotham, at least in America. So more good news. They were not in America. Probably not even on the same continent. Maybe not in the same hemisphere. Great…

Tim wondered what time it was. Knowing the time might give him a clue to where he was. He had been kidnapped at about midnight, and if it had been four hours, it would be four in the morning back home. If he knew what time it was here, he could deduce what time zone he was in. He thought about asking the assassin who was escorting him, but thought better of it. It would be easier to get the information from someone who was not trained to fight and kill and be suspicious, even though Tim was only a kid. He was Robin after all, and these people probably didn’t like Robin.

The assassin escorted him to a room that was surprisingly well furnished. Once he tossed Tim in, they slammed the door shut, leaving Tim still bound and alone.

Tim somehow managed to push himself up from the floor and stagger to the bed, where he promptly collapsed. Somehow the realization that he was being held captive by a genius madman was only now sinking in, which was not a very warm and fuzzy feeling.

On the plane, Tim still felt that everything was happening to someone else, and he was only witnessing it through a window, but laying helpless on the bed shattered that vain hope, causing the floodgates of reality to come crashing down, almost drowning Tim. He could feel his heart seize up again and every muscle in his body tremble. His mouth felt dry enough to compete with a dessert, and his heartbeat was way too high to be safe. He was not ready for this.

Jason would have been out of this mess in a matter of minutes, but Tim was failing. He was failing Bruce. He was failing Batman. He was failing Robin. Robin would never be scared. Robin would never lose his head. Who was Tim to be Robin? Tim squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the world. Tim could barely survive on patrol. He couldn’t even hold his own against an assassin on his own turf? How was he going to survive being Robin? How could Robin survive Tim? Jason didn’t deserve this. Tim felt the weight of it all crippling him.

This was his first experience with being captured, and he was failing already. What if he couldn’t escape and Batman never found him. Tim couldn’t imagine what Gotham would be like while Batman didn’t have another Robin, and there would be no one to fill the role after Tim was gone. Everyone would suffer and it would be all his stupid fault.

No matter what, he swore to himself, he would get back to Batman. And he couldn’t do that as the scared little coward, Timothy Drake. He must become Robin. And Robin was never scared, so Tim locked his fear inside a trunk in the deepest part of his mind. He had to think through this logically. He had to make sure that he was truly alone first. He flung himself off the bed, and even though his hands were still tied behind his back, he managed to knock on the walls to see if there were any hollow spots were one might be listening. Luckily there were none, but now Tim had to account for cameras or microphones hidden in the room. After searching the entire room he only found two, which he promptly crushed. However, he doubted that a control freak like Ra’s Al Ghul who had pictures of him when he was ten would only have two cameras. He would have to be careful in what he did.

The first step would be removing his bonds, and this time it could be accomplished. The bed had a wooden frame. Wooden frames were held together by nails. Nails were sharp. Nails could cut rope. Tim grinned, and got to work.

It was hard because his arms were practically useless, but he managed to kick one of the legs off, exposing two nails. Cutting the rope was awkward, and he gave himself several cuts, but eventually he shredded the ropes (and a bit of his wrist) enough to finagle his way out of them. He was not proud of his workmanship, but they were off now.

Tim hid the rope under the mattress and replaced the leg so if anyone gave a cursory check up glance they wouldn’t see anything amiss. It wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny, but Tim doubted anyone would make a thorough inspection of the room. At least he hoped so. Well, he couldn’t worry about it now. Most likely there was a camera in here anyway so they already knew. But hopefully they wouldn’t think much of a twelve year old boy who was locked in a room. Surrounded by a league of merciless assassins. But who happened to escape his bonds. Oh shoot. This was going to be so much harder than Tim hoped.

The second step in his master plan was getting a plan to contact Bruce. There must be a computer in the compound somewhere. Tim had always been good with computers, so hopefully he would have enough time to hack their system and send his location to Batman.

Tim looked around the room for anything that might help him. When he had been searching the room for the cameras, he had noticed that the room was exceptionally bare.

Besides the bed, the room was empty. The bed was comprised of a wooden bed frame and a mattress. The mattress could be stripped down into the outer cloth and the stuffing that looked like a mix of sand and feathers. Apart from that, there was the rope which Tim had almost completely mutilated and the things Tim had been carrying. Luckily it did not appear to have been searched, so his lockpick that he had kept in his shoe since he was nine (they were handy for picking any doors on the roof while he watched for Batman) were still there, but since he had been in the middle of training, he did not have his utility belt or any other of his equipment, which he sorely missed. Oh, he remembered, there was also the parts of the cameras. Well, somehow it was going to be enough to escape a locked room surrounded by assassins. He bit back a hysterical laugh. This was not the time for hysterics. He needed to get out of here. For Batman’s sake.

Tim tried to mentally retrace his steps. He entered the by what was probably considered the front door. They had soon turned down a long hall, but Tim could see that the front entrance continued for some way, branching out into other halls like the one they turned down. There appeared to be no one coming or going from anywhere. Tim wondered if it was always like that, or if it was because he was there. Either way, it did not give him any clues as to where the central control was.

Tim also had noticed some stairs leading to both an upper and lower level. That indicated that there was more levels like the one he was on. He doubted if there was only three, and the computer could be on anyone of them. A feeling of hopelessness washed over him. He wasn’t prepared for this. Jason and Dick could have come up with something by now, but he needed more information, and for that he would have to wait. He hated waiting. Bruce would have noticed his absence by now and would be going nuts. Nothing about this whole situation was good. He knew he needed to contact Batman as soon as possible, but on the other hand, he might only have one shot at it. The two sides warred internally, but the side of caution ultimately won. He would wait for more information to come. In the meantime he busied himself with making himself weapons.

That is where the sand, cloth, and rope came in handy. Tim was able to finagle a sand bomb that might prove handy as a distraction. The wooden legs could be like bats or escrima sticks like Nightwing used, but once he had his weapons, he listened at the door for any incline of what was going on on the other side.

There seemed to only be one guard that occasionally made a noise, but other than that, there was only silence. Long, endless silence. With nothing to think about or do, and at most Tim had gotten only an hour or two of sleep, maximum the night before due to pain from his injury. The pain Alfred made him take earlier were not helping him stay awake either.

As his eyelids were growing steadily heavier, Tim debated if he should let himself go to sleep or if he should stay awake to gather more information. But luckily his controversy was interrupted by a guard knocking on his door and sliding food through a slot in the bottom. Tim idly wondered if this was breakfast, or if they were just giving him food at different times. Then he wondered if the food was poisoned or contaminated in some way. Well, he shrugged mentally, even if it was he would still need to eat some time. It was useless to starve himself because needed to stay in peak condition so he could escape before Batman did something he would regret. Tim also doubted that Ra’s Al Ghul intended to kill him, or he would have done something by now.

Plus, there was no way Tim could imagine the man calling himself the Demon’s head would kill him in such an anticlimactic way. He striked Tim as the type of person that would test his victims mentally and physically before their own weakness killed them. He also seemed to love the dramatics in Tim’s humble opinion, just like a certain other caped crusader that loved unnecessarily smashing through skylights.

Regardless, Tim shoved the food down in one gulp, and swallowed it down with the water. He would rather not spend an overly extended time worrying what was in the food.

But the whole food situation forced him to realize that while he was here, Ra’s Al Ghul had him at his mercy, so he decided that there was no time to lose.

But what if the people were watching him? He couldn’t let that foil his plans. They must know that he had been preparing to escape, so they wouldn’t let him out. He must act fast.

Tim took a second to take a deep breath. He was really going to do this. He was going to break out of a cell just like a real Robin might. Tim couldn’t help the excitement that bubbled up, but he also couldn’t help the unparalleled terror that came with it. There was no way he was going to make it out of this. But, no, he would not think of that. He _had_ to make it out of here alive. Batman was counting on him.

He steeled himself for the performance of a lifetime. He started with gripping his stomach for a brief moment before pretending to push the pain away, only to grip it and double over.

A second later, he was on the floor, but that lasted for a moment. He staggered to his feet, and dragged himself to what was left of the bed. In a low voice he gasped, “The food, he _did_ poison it. I’m going to die.” Tim let the realization dawn on his face. A perfect mixture of shock and disbelief. He then dragged himself to the door still gripping his stomach and knocked. “Mr. Assassin, sir,” he said with his most kiddish voice. “I- I don’t feel so good.” He let the desperation in his voice amplify. “Please, I don’t want to die.” It was almost a whimper, but Tim was beyond caring about silly things like dignity. At this point he was way too desperate to care. The only thing he regretted was how Jason would feel about him disgracing the Robin name.

But before he could regret his decision, there was a slight rustle outside the door, but no voice answered. Time to put the icing on the cake. Tim prayed that they would believe it. “Sir please, I- I really don’t want to di…” he stumbled to the floor causing the rest of the bed frame to crumple beneath him. He lay still. A perfect corpse. Or unconscious person. Whatever would incentivize the assassins to come in faster.

After a full minute of no further noise, a coil of fear snuck up his spine. What if this didn’t work? But if he learned anything with forcing himself by Batman’s side, it was how to never back down, so he lay there. Refusing to give in to their petty test.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, someone finally opened the door. He heard three sets of footsteps, and a fourth outside the door. All of them were light, barely skimming the ground, so Tim felt safe to assume that they were all assassins. Two stepped closer leaving one by the door. Ugh, these guys were as cautious as Batman.

Once they were over Tim, he knew it was time to act. He steeled himself, then attacked. He shot both legs out and swung them to knock the first one over. He then leapt up to face the second one. He was surprised to see his opponent had already drawn his sword. The one outside the door was already closing it, and the first one was already back on his feet. Maybe Tim had not thought this through as well as he thought. But it was too late to change anything now. He threw one of his crude escrimas, just barely catching the door before it closed. That would buy him a moment or two before the door closed for good. So he rushed at the second one, wooden escrima in hand, with a recklessness that caught his opponent off guard. Tim could tell that the assassins had been commanded not to hurt him, so he used that to his full advantage. The assassin discarded his sword, which wasn’t much good to him unless he wanted to stab the boy.

Once that pointy obstacle was out of his way, Tim threw himself at the assassin. Literally. The assassin, clearly not expecting this suicidal move, staggered back towards the door. Tim then disentangled himself and threw himself at the door, successfully knocking the assassin behind it back. The other assassins were already coming after him, but he slammed the door in their face and snapped the lock shut. Even with their fancy swords, it would hold them off long enough to escape. And while the other assassin was still winded, Tim gave him a whack on the head hard enough to knock him out. Tim contemplated tying him up, but with no rope, that would be a bit hard to accomplish, so Tim just left him, but not before grabbing his sword. It was a much more effective weapon then his homemade escrima sticks.

That is when Tim felt the pain in his leg surge. While he had been fighting, somehow he had been able to block out the pain, but it now was back in full force.

Crap, that was going to slow him down, but Tim refused to be bested by a stupid leg wound. A true Robin wouldn’t let anything stop him. Instead, he darted off to the nearest stairwell. His scuffle and subsequent escape would have attracted the attention of everyone on the base. Hopefully the assassins would overestimate Robin, and he would be able to make it to a computer before he was caught again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE little Timmy! But poor kid can't catch a break. And Ra's is the master of creepiness.  
> Hope you guys enjoy. I plan to publish the next chapter on Friday hopefully.


	3. Chapter 3

He traveled to the top floor, luckily meeting no one. Now to find a computer. If I was a computer, he thought, where would I be? The answer was simple. A place that was both easily accessible and defendable. Somewhere like the middle of the base, the hub of everything. A place that would almost positively be guarded by at least dozens and dozens of trained killer assassins. “Just my luck,” he muttered to the deceptively empty hallway.

Tim really shouldn’t have been so quick to talk about luck because as soon as he thought it, he heard footsteps coming down the corridor, reminding him that he was still being hunted, so he decided to make himself scarce.

He slunk around looking for a place to hide before he could be discovered. There was a door right in front of him. And it was clearly unlocked! There was no way Tim was this lucky. Nevertheless, he crept to the door as fast as he dared, and cautiously pushed it open, preparing for the surprise attack, but to his great surprise, there was none. The room appeared to be only a broom closet. A broom closet in the middle of a assassin’s base. He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “Really? I am not  _ this dumb. _ ”

Tim searched for the  _ real  _ reason for the room, but apart from a few miscellaneous supplies, it was perfectly empty. He quickly knocked on the wall for any hint of a secret passage. Most of the room seemed normal, but the back wall… That one was different. It was hardly noticeable, but there was something different about it. Tim looked for something to trigger the passageway, but if it was there, it was invisible to the human eye, so instead he decided to use more brute methods. His eye fell on the assassin’s sword he had swiped.

Tim snatched it and gave a quick thrust in the wall. It gave an audible slicing sound as it slid straight through the wall. Tim felt the warm glow of pride, before realizing that someone was probably on the other side of the wall. Someone who would have just seen a sword plunge through the wall. Someone who he had just alerted to his whereabouts. He sighed. Excellent. 

Well, the only way he was getting out of this situation was to go through the wall. If there was a person on the other side, he would have already alerted the guards, but if there was no one, it might be a safe hiding place. Tim weighed the options and decided to at least have a peek. Maybe he could hold the person hostage. This time he chose the corner to next pierce the wall. He poked a small hole to first listen. “Well there is no sound, so that is good I guess,” he muttered to himself.

Tim’s next move was to slice a whole large enough for him to squeeze through. Luckily the sword was sharp, a fact that Tim refused to dwell too long on.

It was a tight fit, but Tim’s small frame was able to squeeze through much smaller places. His head popped out into darkness. The rest of his body followed, hand still gripping the sword, just in case.

Then the lights flashed on, and Tim must be going crazy because for a split second he saw a scarily familiar boy standing over him.

“Jason,” Tim squeaked, before the boy promptly whacked him on the head.

 

* * *

 

Tim woke up a few minutes later with two guards dragging him back to a cell stripped of all of his weapons, accompanied by five other assassins and a lady Tim hadn’t seen before, but seemed to hold some weight with the group.

Tim briefly considered trying to attack her, but the monster of a lump on his head reminded him that it probably was not the best idea. Plus, she seemed to be able rip him apart at a whim, so after not that much consideration, he decided to refrain. Instead he followed as calmly as he could, trying to gather as much about his surroundings as he could before he was locked up,  _ again _ . 

The group marched him to a cell, however not his original one, probably because his other one was destroyed. This one was simpler in every respect, except this one had a iron bed frame instead of a wooden one. 

The killer assassins tossed him into the room in the same manner as before. The woman however stopped in the doorway before they closed it.

“Boy,” she addressed him with a frigid glare. “Ra’s Al Ghul expects your presence at dinner in one hour. Be prepared.” Then the door was slammed and bolted, leaving Tim to try to fight off another panic attack.

He had blown his chance to escape. How was Batman supposed to rescue him now? And Ra’s Al Ghul wanting dinner with him? That certainly spelt his doom, right? But that was a dark path that Tim barred from his mind. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts. No, he must keep his head in the present, not dwell on the future because Batman needed a Robin, so he must survive somehow.

His first step was to sweep the room for bugs again. This time he found  _ four  _ different cameras. Whether this means he was improving or Mr. Al Ghul was hiding more cameras, he couldn’t tell. Either way, he doubted he found all of the cameras, so he refused to let his guard down.

His second step was to replenish his weapons supply. Since all of his previous weapons had been confiscated, he would definitely need new ones. Unfortunately the materials he had used last time were all missing from his room. 

The materials he now had to work with was the mattress. The incredibly soft mattress. Tim sighed and let himself fall back on the impossibly soft mattress. All he wanted to do in that moment was to go to sleep and wake up like this was just another nightmare. However he couldn’t afford to do that. This was no nightmare that he would magically wake up from. He needed to get out of here himself because Batman needed a Robin. 

So instead of letting his troubles slip away with a much desired sleep, he pushed himself up. Instantly, he felt a searing in his wrist that left him gasping for breath. 

He looked down to see that the dozen or so scratches from the nails he used to cut his bonds were deeper than he had realized. Tim wondered how he had not noticed them before. Had he really been that preoccupied with escaping? “Oh, Alfred is so going to kill me.”

He knew that the wounds needed bandaging before he concocted any more stupid ideas or else they might get infected, and escape was already hard enough as it is. He definitely didn’t need to deal with any more injuries. 

He tore two strips from the bottom of his pants and wrapped them carefully around the wound. Ideally he needed ointment to treat the wound, but Tim doubted that there was some hidden somewhere in the room, so he would have to do without for now. The small strip was not enough to securely cover all of it, so maybe the mattress might come in handy after all. Tim ripped the mattress into thin strips. He then wrapped his gashes. Alfred would have been ashamed, but it was the best Tim could do.

After everything was taken care of, Tim allowed his mind to wander to his failed escape attempt. 

Who was the boy who captured him? Tim never got a  _ good _ look at him. Maybe he was mistaken. Surely it was. Because Jason was in the ground. Tim had seen the funeral. No one could fake their death that well, right. “No,” he said outloud. “That boy, whoever he was, was definitely not Jason.”

Tim just must be more tired than he thought. It must have been another hallucination. Yes, that was it, just another hallucination. He smiled at how simple the solution was and decided to not think about it or his depleting mental health again. And with those thoughts securely locked away deep in his mind, Tim turned his attention to the deeply worrying thing that the woman had said before locking him in here. 

He was going to have dinner with Ra’s. That was either a good sign or a very, very, very bad one. 

“Dinner with the Demon’s Head,” he laughed quietly. “Wow. I am totally going to die tonight.” He would be dying tonight, leaving Batman alone and reckless. Really what good had Tim been to Batman? Sure he had become Robin, but everyone knew that he was a poor excuse of a Robin, barely fit to even polish the Batmobile, let alone stand by Batman’s side. Now all he would do was cause Batman more anguish. All because he couldn’t even fight an old, creepy man and a single assassin. Who was he to call himself the Hero of Gotham’s famed partner? He was more like a clown playing dress up than a hero.

“Batman will come,” he muttered. Then he laughed again. Oh, who was he kidding? Thanks to Tim’s failed mission, Batman had no idea where he was. Tim had blown his only chance, and Batman would pay for it.

Yeah, Tim would be having dinner with Ra’s. Wait, dinner. If Tim remembered correctly, what he assumed to be breakfast was only at most half an hour ago. Between breakfast and dinner there is roughly a nine hour difference. That means there must be a nine or ten hour difference in time between Gotham and where ever he was now. The only mountains this high in that time zone was the Himalayas. 

Well at least Tim got that one mystery out of the way before he died. Now that there was absolutely no hope of getting that news to Batman. Not that there ever was with only himself to accomplish anything anymore.

“Himalayas, well at least I made it out of the country before I died,” he muttered. “Too bad it wasn’t with my parents. They never did take me on one of their trips, did they?” Too bad he would never be able to go with them anymore. At least they wouldn’t be too distraught at his death. 

His hour of waiting was almost up. Tim idelly wondered what the lady wanted him to be prepared for. He wondered if it was an ominous ‘be prepared’ or just one saying ‘you better not mess this up.’ Either way Tim was as prepared as he would ever be. He wasn’t quite ready to die, and Batman certainly wasn’t ready to lose another Robin. However Tim was resigned to his fate. He just wished he was at least able to find a Robin to take his place for Batman’s sake before he died.

A knock on his door sounded. There it was, the knock of the executioner.

Someone slid a small panel back on the door, so they could see him. “Put your hands on the wall opposite the door,” the voice of the lady said. “And don’t move if you know what is good for you.” Tim obeyed the voice. He inwardly gave a sardonic smile. It was amusing how they thought he could be a possible threat. The fools didn’t realize that it was only Robin that was the threat. Tim was just the pathetic actor behind the mask. One that couldn’t even save Batman, which was his  _ one _ mission.

With his back turned, he couldn’t see anything going on behind him, but he heard the sound of the door opening and at least three assassins rushing in, followed by the sound of the lady’s boots clicking the ground. “You may turn around now, slowly.” Tim obeyed. He fought the urge to lower his eyes in submission. He decided that he would not disgrace Robin anymore than he already had. He would not show weakness. Jason and Dick didn’t deserve that. So instead he met the woman’s eyes. They were cold and sharp like a the cold steel of a blade.

“My father is ready for you now.” Father? Who…? Wait a moment… FATHER?!? RA’S?!? This was his  _ daughter?  _ Oh goodness. He really was going to die. 

“If you behave, I will not be forced to have the guards drag you there.” Tim decided that having to be dragged to his death like a coward would certainly be disgracing to Robin, so he nodded and followed Ra’s daughter out. The journey to his last meal was uneventful. However they did pass the central computer. There weren’t even that many guards around. Tim longed to rush over to it and contact Batman, but he knew that the lack of guards was deceptive, and he still had his own personal retinal of jail keepers to keep him in line.

It was some kind of sick torture. Tim knew that it was all part of Ra’s plan. There was no possible way that it was a mere accident. Ra’s had planned for him to be brought through that exact route. Tim glared at the lady. She must be in on the sick plan too. He felt an uncontrollable anger towards her and Ra’s for bringing him so close to being rescued, but still impossibly far away. He clenched his fist and tried to swallow his anger, until they were a safe distance away. If they were going to kill him, they didn’t have to torture him first. The fact that he was abandoning Batman was torture enough. He didn’t need their attempts, too.

Luckily before Tim did anything rash, they arrived at what appeared to be Ra’s private dining hall. All of the guards stopped at the door and allowed the lady to escort Tim into the room alone, so Tim assumed that they were not allowed in the room. One might think that the removal of the guards would be a weight off of his shoulders, but being alone with Ra’s daughter was not Tim’s idea of comfort.

To take his mind off of his present circumstance, he looked around the room. It was larger than Bruce’s dining room. Even larger than his parent’s. But it was also empty. There was hardly any furniture other than a relatively small table and the chairs to accompany it. The table itself was made from some type of old oak and could seat maybe ten people. There was already places set at each seat. In the center of the table was a glass pitcher of ice water. 

“Please sit,” the lady said gesturing to one of the chairs. Tim went as far as the chair but hesitated before sitting. “Please take a seat,” the lady said again, this time with a sharper note. Still, Tim only shook his head. Why was she being so insistent?

“I would prefer to wait for Mr. Al Ghul,” was his meek, yet stubborn reply. He didn’t know what was expected of him, and he did not want to offend anyone by sitting before Ra’s.

“Well wait no longer,” a voice said from behind him, causing Tim to nearly jumped into the lady’s arms. A low chuckle filled the room.“A little jumpy are we?”

Idiot, Tim thought, disgusted with himself, you disgraced Robin’s name again. Jason would have never jumped like that. A real Robin would have heard him coming. Batman would be ashamed of him. No, Tim must not think of him right now. He must face death with dignity. “Good evening Mr. Al Ghul.”

“At least you are politer than the last one.” At that slur, Tim felt a flare of anger spring up, but he quickly shoved and locked it away. A real Robin would never let his emotions overcome him. Ra’s seemed to notice Tim’s stoicness but did not comment on it. “Are you ready for dinner?” Tim gave a small nod. “Then please have a seat,” he said gesturing to the chair. 

Tim eyed it. Why was everyone insisting he take a seat? And in this chair? However he didn’t want to blatantly disobey the master of all of the assassins. “After you, sir.” It was a diplomatic enough reply. Ra’s gave a slight smile and agreed. 

He of course sat at the head of the table. Tim then was left with no choice but to sit. However, he sat in the seat next to the one everyone was trying to make him sit in, just to be safe. No need to openly invite death. 

The chair completely dwarfed him. His feet didn’t even reach the ground. Tim sure hoped that no one noticed. After a moment, the lady sat at the other end of the table.

Tim could feel Ra’s watching him, while they waited for their meal as if watching his prey for signs of weakness. The silent scrutiny seemed to stretch into eternity, but Tim knew it could only be a minute or two judging by the rate of the melting ice. Luckily the food came before the ice melted all of the way. 

The food smelled delicious, causing Tim’s mouth to water, but he couldn’t show weakness. However his stomach betrayed him by rumbling as loud as Killer Croc fighting Batman. Still Tim wouldn’t give into the temptation. He still didn’t trust the food to not be poisoned, so he took only a few bites. 

Both of his companions finished their meal in silence. They seemed to be conspiring to refuse to give him anything to think about except his untimely demise. Tim finally worked up enough courage to ask a question. “Where are we?”

“We are in my dining hall,” Ra’s answered. Tim knew Ra’s knew what he meant, but he refused to let that man get under his skin.

“My apologize, Mr. Al Ghul. I meant where are we geographically? What mountain are we on,” he clarified.

“We are on Tipas.”

“No we aren’t,” Tim said before he could stop himself. Immediately he realized his mistake. He had just told Ra’s that he knew generally where they were. He realized that it had been a test. Another test that he had failed. He refused to look at Ra’s for the rest of the meal. He also forbid himself from talking. He figured that if he was quiet, maybe then he would stop disgracing Robin. So he waited.

The ice had long melted and the condensation evaporated before they both finished their meal. However Tim wasn’t sure if he was glad or scared when Ra’s finally put down his fork, signaling the meal was over. 

The lady stood and left the room leaving Tim alone with the man. “How have you enjoyed your stay with us, boy?”

Tim wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “The service is quick and efficient around here.” 

“Apparently not quick enough.”

“I am here aren’t I,” it was said with a bitter note that Tim was too annoyed at himself to hide.

“You are indeed. But I must admit that I am surprised at how slow the service was,  _ Timothy.” _

Tim winced slightly at the use of his name. He wasn’t totally sure if he prefered boy or it better.

“It was much slower than that for either Richard or Jason.” At that, Tim fought to keep his emotions in check under Ra’s careful scrutiny. Ra’s had just revealed that he had done the same to both of the Robins. Both of them had gone through what he was enduring.

“I propose a game, Timothy.” Tim looked up sharply at the change in tone of Ra’s voice. This was going to be it. The final test. “A game of chess.” 

Tim thought about it. This might be a chance he needed to save Batman. Of course there was no way he could win against this master of strategy, but he had to try anyway. “What would you give me if I win?”

Ra’s almost seemed taken aback, but Tim could tell he was inwardly pleased. “What do you want?” That was what Tim was looking for.

“My freedom?” Ra’s was silent for a long moment. Tim stared at him, not wanting to show how badly he wanted this. 

“And why would I do this for you?”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut and saw Batman after Jason was gone. A reckless Batman. A Batman that did not care for his welfare, or the welfare of others. A Batman who turned into something much darker. 

In a whisper he said, “He needs a Robin.” Tim paused for any sign of agreement, but when he was only met with silence, he plunged on. “Right now, I am the only one who can do it. No one else knows, and he would not go looking for a Robin. I might not be the best candidate, but I am the only one at the moment, so at least for now, I need to be his Robin.” 

The words at this point were spilling out of him. All composure was lost. “If he doesn’t have a Robin, he becomes reckless. He will get himself killed. Or get someone else killed. I can’t let that happen.” Tim hoped that Ra’s would see his logic and let him go. But Ra’s did not say one way or another, so Tim took a deep breath and gave one last, desperate attempt. “If you won’t let me go be his Robin, then please let me go find someone else to become take up the mantle. Batman can’t survive without a Robin.”

Ra’s sat for a long moment, stone faced. “If you are worried about me trying to escape again, I won’t. Even if I did, we both know that I won’t get far. I doubt there is a place on this earth that your assassins haven’t already penetrated.” There, all of his cards were on the table. Now all he could do was wait. And pray.

“You drive a hard bargain, but I do not think your sacrifice will be necessary. I will give you your liberty if you defeat me.” For a moment Tim’s excitement penetrated his stoic face. “However,” Ra’s said. “If I defeat you, you will stay here for as long as I please, without attempting another escape.” 

There was no other way around it, and Tim knew it. “Deal.” At least it seemed Ra’s was not going to kill him. Not yet anyway.

“Good.” The satisfied smile on his face made Tim want to hurl, but again he locked his emotions inside. The lady came back with a priceless chess set that would have cost a small fortune to anyone else. 

And since Ra’s had not called for her, Tim surmised that she had been eavesdropping at a secret listening spot behind one of the walls. Ra’s had most likely ordered her to listen and be ready in case Tim did anything foolish. Within a moment the chess board was set, but before the game had begun, Tim had a request.

“May the water pitcher be refilled with ice?”

“That can be arranged," Talia said slipping out.

“I suspect you would want to be represented by the Dark Knight?” Tim nodded, refusing to break his poker face. That meant that Ra’s would have the first move, but Tim didn’t think there was another alternative.

The opening move of the game was pawn to E4. Tim thought that Ra’s might be trying to scholar’s mate, so he immediately blocked with his own pawn. The game wore on like this for several more minutes. They both had their wins and losses. Tim felt a thrill of glee when he managed to snatch the white queen. A few moves later and Ra’s snatched his bishop. 

What if Tim lost the game? What if he was trapped here forever? Then Batman would never find another Robin. What would happen to Batman? What would happen to Gotham?

“Check,” Ra’s announced. Tim frantically combed the board for the offending piece. There it was. His king was being cornered by the white rook. Luckily Tim escaped the snare, but it was a wake up call. Tim had to bar any thoughts of Batman, Bruce, or freedom from his mind. The would distract him and be a infallible way to lose.

After a while, his hopes surged again when he thought that he might actually be winning. He refused to look at Ra’s just in case he gave away his emotions. Tim searched the board for any trap, but there didn’t seem to be any. Still, it seemed to be too easy, surely there was some catch. But there wasn’t.

“Checkmate,” Tim whispered, hardly daring to believe it was over. Tim could see Ra’s searching for a way out of it, but there was none. Tim had made sure of that. Every piece had been dealt with. There was no way out.

To his credit, Ra’s calmly surrendered his king. “Well done,  _ detective _ .”

Tim stared at him. Was it really this easy? Was this man just going to let him leave. If he was honest, Tim thought that any minute now the guards were going to come back and drag him back to his cell. And what was with the nickname. Surely Ra’s was not the type to give out nicknames.

“If you are ready to leave now, I will have Talia escort you out. I will not be joining you on your journey.” Surely it wasn’t this easy. “I wish you could have stayed, but just know that you are welcome back whenever. Please feel free to send me a message whenever you need assistance.” 

Tim laughed internally at the thought of him coming back but had enough self preservation instincts not to do so aloud. “Ah, here is my daughter now. She will take you to the plane.” Tim stood and backed away from the table, not totally convinced that this was not all some test, and any minute now the assassins would be on top of him. Once he reached the door, he turned and followed the lady out, whipping his head around every few feet or so to make sure Ra’s had not moved. 

However they continued on for some minutes without incident, so maybe all of this was not a trap after all. They were heading down another long passageway when they heard the sound of fighting. Since Talia did not look concerned, Tim figured that it was only a training session. As they walked by, Tim peaked in.

Inside was an assassin fighting with a boy. The same boy who had knocked him out earlier. The same boy who looked a lot like Jason. The same boy who could have been Jason’s identical twin. The same boy that could have been Jason if Jason was not buried in the ground.

The boy paused to look back at Tim and glare at him. Tim nearly had a heart attack; it was the same glare. The boy looked  _ exactly  _ like Jason, down to the tattoo poking out of the cuff of his shorts that Batman did not know about.

This had to be a hallucination. There was no way Jason could be alive.

“Timothy, move along. Don’t you want to go home?” Tim realized that he had become rooted to the spot. He hurriedly moved on, refusing to take another look at the boy who was definitely  _ not _ Jason.

But behind him he heard the assassin call out to the boy, “Jason, focus.”

Maybe Tim had misheard because there was no way that Jason could be alive right now. 

Luckily he had the entire plane ride to think about all of the information. He used this plane ride to process everything and to convince himself that yes, it was a hallucination, and yes, he had misheard the assassin.

Tim would be glad when he finally got home and was able to put all of this behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha!! It is finished!! I LOVE Jason!! And I really wished this is how everything turned out in the comics because that would fix all the problems.  
> Now the next chapter is going to be what happened from Ra's POV, and he is still REALLY creepy.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first long work, and I am so excited about sharing it. I love young Tim when he is first becoming Robin and him having to live up to his predecessor's legacy. I also think that Ra's is absolutely creepy.  
> I plan on updating within the next few days, so stick around.


End file.
